


The Distant Echo

by Leni



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Future Fic, Gen, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 22:31:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3094025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leni/pseuds/Leni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future-fic. Emma goes to collect her little brother from the bell tower. </p><p>(Prompt: <i>those given the name of the dead have a piece of them inside.</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Distant Echo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tigriswolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/gifts).



> Written for Tigriswolf at [Comment Fic](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/545923.html?thread=77335427#t77335427). Prompt: **those given the name of the dead have a piece of them inside.**

Her little brother is a normal child.

He likes chocolate milk and plain cereal. He begs to stay up past his bedtime, sulks all the way to his bed when it doesn't work, and then begs for story after story before sleep. He doesn't enjoy nature very much, but is happy to listen to Roland when the older boy tells the adventures of the Merry Men in the woods. At school, he is among the first of his year, and when the children play heroes and villains in the playground, Neal will be the one wearing a red cape.

David had pouted the first time Neal declared that his favorite hero was Superman, not Prince Charming. For all that he's heard the stories from the Enchanted Forest since he was a baby, Neal is a child from this world, and his dream is not to slay a dragon but to stop a meteorite from hitting the planet.

Emma remembers laughing that he still dreamed big, so obviously he was part of the family.

David had cracked a smile at that, too.

He wouldn't be smiling this time.

Just as Belle had told her over the phone, Emma finds her brother standing a few feet away from the small balcony of the bell tower, facing the town. Unlike his parents - and his sister, she admits - Neal is a quiet one, given to nestle on a couch with a pile of Justice League comic books next to him and a mug of cinnamon-sprinkled choco within easy reach.

Much like Henry, or so says the side of her memories that raised her son. Neal certainly has never been the kind of boy who disappears without a word.

At least he didn't steal any credit cards to fund a trip outside town.

"You're in big trouble, kiddo," she tells him, coming into the room but staying close to the door. "You're lucky I already told everybody you're with me, or you'd have the whole town looking for you."

Either of their parents would have already run to him and engulfed the boy in a tight hug, simultaneously firing questions about the reasons for this behavior. Emma stands still and waits for her brother to turn toward her. When he does, she raises an eyebrow and waits some more.

It's not that she doesn't _want_ to hug him. She's grown more comfortable with the concept since her arrival in Storybrooke, and this is her little brother, the only baby she's really held and cradled and kissed his little soft eyelids because she couldn't resist doing it. But he needs to know she's not happy with him, and where neither Mary Margaret nor David would dream of withholding their affection, Emma still believes that a bit of tough love goes a long way when raising a determined little boy.

(The Henry she raised didn't turn out too badly, did he?)

"Well?" she says, when two minutes pass and the kid still says nothing.

He is stubborn, of course. _That_ , he had to copy from the rest of them.

He is also an independent boy, more likely to try and solve by himself whatever little problems eight-year-olds ran into than to come to any of them for their help.

"I said to leave me alone," he says at last, crossing his arms over his chest. The gesture is so like Mary Margaret, when she is feeling contrary, that Emma almost doesn't hold onto a smile.

"Too late," she says firmly. "You could have been alone in your own room. Fess up and I'll see if I can get you some leniency from your mom." And it will be Mary Margaret who will force herself to ground the little miscreant. David would just add a couple chores to Neal's to-do list for the week and call it punishment enough. Prince Charming or not, their father is too soft-hearted to lay down the law at home. "Come on, kid. Let's get this over with." When she sees his troubled face, Emma relents a little. "if you need anything, I promise I'll help after Mary Margaret is through with you. Just... no more trips to the bell tower, okay? it's dangerous here."

Neal frowns. "It's not!"

"Trust me," Emma says, thinking of all the ways a child could be hurt while playing in a mostly abandoned room out of earshot from anybody else. They've been lucky that Belle is too curious not to investigate the soft noises he'd made on his way up. She doesn't add, _People have died here,_ but she gives the wide window a few feet from her brother an uneasy glance. She doesn't know the details, but she knows that her mother watched as an old friend was tossed off that window and died in the fall.

Just for that, Emma is grateful that Belle had decided to call her instead of her parents when she'd caught sight of the eight-year-old sneaking through the library and toward the stairs in the back. The place has bad memories for Mary Margaret, and even now she's too often haunted by nightmares to expose her to a trigger like this.

"I'm not scared," Neal insists.

Yes, for all his quiet ways, the boy is definitely part of the family.

"And you shouldn't be," Emma agrees. Because the world is scary enough when one grows up, and children shouldn't have to understand that. "But you have to be more careful."

Of course, she realizes that she is telling this to the boy with such shining examples as heading to slay a dragon with barely any experience managing a sword, and biting into a poisoned apple because an evil queen had promised not to hurt anyone else (and Emma had met that Regina; in Snow White's place, she wouldn't have believed a word!) ...and their parents' bold choices were still better than the sister who'd gone after another dragon with her firearm, and the nephew who'd taken on the poisoned apple tart _without_ any promises being made in exchange.

Her little brother is doomed, Emma knows, and today clinches it.

Neal must be the only child in Storybrooke who'd dare traipse uninvited into the territory of Gold's wife and then yell at her that he wanted to be left alone. For all that Belle is a sweet lady, even the little ones know not to upset Rumpelstiltskin's true love.

A couple years of good behavior cannot undo centuries of scary tales.

And Neal has heard all those tales along with those of his parents. He even went through a phase where he only wanted to hear about them. He actually got his first issue of Superman to distract him when he'd mentioned asking for details the next time they met the Golds. (Emma had never seen such a terrified look on her parents' faces, at that thought, and she knew that she'd paled as well. Rumpelstiltskin may not be an enemy, but he still isn't an easy friend... and he certainly has no fondness for those who root in his past.)

She'd held onto some hope that Neal would avoid danger, but here he is, barely eight and already breaking into one of the few places where Snow White's word isn't the law. It's not that he would be hurt on purpose, while under Belle's roof; but if Belle's husband gets in one of his nasty moods, Neal's parents may not recover him as soon as they'd like without a deal under the table.

That's politics in Storybrooke.

"Come on, kiddo," she says, giving him an encouraging smile. "It won't be as bad as all that. Time to go home."

But Neal's face turns stubborn, and he steps backwards until his back is touching the wall beside the balcony. He cranes his neck a little, enough to peek out of the window and over the town. Then his gaze moves down and the boy pales so visibly that Emma hurries to his side.

When she kneels next to him, Emma discovers that her brother's eyes are now shut tight. This is not the harmless prank Emma had first suspected, nor a bit of adventure the boy had dreamed up. "What _are_ you doing here, sweetheart?"

His little hands grab onto her shoulders, as if anchoring himself, and slowly he opens his eyes again. "I'm not a coward," he says, but he sounds miserable.

Emma frowns, bewildered. "Of course you're not."

"Then why am I afraid of..." He gestures to the window a hand's span away.

Emma looks down. She's never considered this a tall building, not compared to the skyscrapers she's seen throughout her life; but when she thinks of a little boy's perspective - and a little boy who has only seen cities on a screen... To him, the bell tower must seem the tallest structure in the world. "I guess it's pretty high, up here," she tells him, "It's normal to be a little wary around heights."

But the hands that curl at her arm, added to the expression in Neal's eyes, speak rather of deep terror. 

Carefully, she tugs her brother a little closer to her, away from the window. She knows it's serious when he lets her without complaint. "What happened, Neal?"

"I wanted to know that Superman feels like, when he's flying." She feels her eyes widen, but Neal gathers some of his nerve back when he notices and scowls a little (their father's scowl, too). "I wasn't going to _jump_. I'm not stupid, Em. I just want to have an idea, see what he'd see..."

"I get it," she tells him, straightening to her feet and taking his hand to start their way to the door.

Neal refuses to budge. To herself, Emma admits some relief; her brother has never been a docile boy, for all he is a sweet one. "No. I want to try again."

He pulls away.

But he doesn't let go of her hand even as he edges back.

And again he freezes as soon as he looks down, and his eyes snap shut. "I'm too afraid," he says, shivering a little. "Don't let go, Emma."

Emma knows how important it is to face one's fears on one's own terms. So she resists the urge to haul her little brother up and leave this place. "Of course not, sweetheart."

He takes a few deep breaths and Emma is sure that he will open his eyes again, but instead he backs down and a second later his small body bumps against her legs and he buries his face against her midriff. "I'm not afraid to fall down," he tells her, sounding as if this is very important. "But..." He leans back and puts his free hand over his chest. "It hurts. As if I'm about to lose everything and... I don't like that feeling. I don't want to be alone, Em."

"I understand," Emma says, because she _does_ understand, but inwardly she wonders what is going on. Her brother is not an effusive child, but he's never been unhappy. He certainly has never been _alone_. He is Snow White's child, and everybody in Storybrooke is fond of him. Even Rumpelstiltskin. The man would be happy to use Neal to get a few favors from his parents, but he'd keep the boy in all comfort while he did it. "But nothing will happen, Neal. You're safe."

"I know." He sounds frustrated. "That's why I don't like it. It doesn't make sense. Even if I fell, you'd still be there. And Mom and Dad as well."

 _Unless you fell through a portal,_ Emma thinks. Then wonders whether _something_ slipped into his brother along with his name... Theirs is a world of magic, after all, and Emma has learned that the old tales are all true: there's power in names. But their tales are also about new chances and happily-ever-afters. The past doesn't define the future, this she has learned as well.

Unlike his namesake, her brother will never know what it is to fall from one world to the other and have no one on the other side. "It's all right," she tells him, sounding like the wiser older sister she's supposed to be, and gives him a little pat on the shoulder. This time, Neal starts toward the door. "You're still in big trouble, though."

Neal makes a face. "Do we _have_ to tell Mom?"

Obviously, no fear is as terrible as the one a boy has of his upset mother.

Emma gives a soft laugh. "Yes, kiddo. We do."

 

The End  
02/01/14


End file.
